Facts proved that before life and death, all beings were equal.
Even immortals who schemed endlessly and believed themselves exalted above all others were no different from ants when they died.
The Xiān Gōng Sect, once majestic and sacred, now seemed to have become a vast slaughter ground for immortals, so immense its borders could not be seen.
Golden immortal blood mixed with the cultivators’ blood, flowing into nearly every seam between the jade bricks. And among the few dozen remaining fallen immortals, Feng Qingyun alone had slain more than half.
At first, some among those who encountered him still dared to fight him to mutual destruction. But as the number of immortals he killed continued to rise, the few that remained were nearly frightened out of their wits. At the mere sight of him, they scattered in panic like rats fleeing.
Many cultivators had initially been stirred by his presence. Quite a few burned with fervor, wishing they alone could slaughter every fallen immortal beneath heaven. Yet as more and more corpses accumulated beneath Feng Qingyun’s sword, the heated blood in their veins gradually cooled, and they began to stand frozen in place.
For those fallen immortals, under Feng Qingyun’s hand, were like melons or gourds, without the slightest power to resist before being pierced through the heart by a single strike. And by the end of his one-sided pursuit, Feng Qingyun could not even be bothered to raise his sword anymore, instead releasing his true form directly.
Vast thorned vines, blotting out the sky and sun, pierced through several immortals attempting to flee, suspending them midair as though offered for sacrifice, waiting for their bodies to disperse.
Golden immortal blood streamed down along the vines. The voices of the fallen immortals shifted from curses to pleas for mercy, to faint weakness, until within less than half an incense stick’s time, they could no longer utter a single sound.
To most cultivators who had recovered their memories, it was a hellish tableau even more terrifying than the collapse of heaven in their previous life. And as the one who painted the grim scene, Feng Qingyun stood lightly upon the main vine, Linshuang Sword in hand, lowering his gaze to overlook the entire Xiān Gōng Sect.
At the moment, he resembled a beast that appeared calm and elegant, yet had gone utterly mad after losing its mate, lowering its head, searching for prey upon which to vent its killing intent.
Countless cultivators stared in shock at the sight, unconsciously swallowing as a chill rose from their spines straight to the crown of their heads. Beneath the afterglow of the setting sun, the immortals’ golden blood had flooded every corner of the Xiān Gōng Sect.
Liu Wu and the other two huddled trembling in a corner of the alchemy chamber, terrified that in his cold fury, Feng Qingyun might casually cleave the three of them apart as well.
The entire struggle lasted a full two days.
For Feng Qingyun, it hardly resembled a battle at all, but rather a one-sided massacre. For the other cultivators, however, though the intensity of the conflict could not compare to the ancient War of the Gods, the fallen immortals’ resolve to fight to the death still caused them considerable trouble.
Only now did everyone fully realize that even among those at the Golden Core stage, the gap between cultivators could be as vast as a heavenly chasm.
After all, some cultivators reached the Golden Core stage because that was the limit of their realm. Others reached it because the path to ascension had been severed, and the highest realm their world could sustain was just that.
And Feng Qingyun was clearly the latter.
But among those remaining, aside from Long Yin, who had already returned to his rightful position, everyone else was plainly the former.
At first, however, Feng Qingyun himself had not realized just how powerful he was. When he brushed past the fox Patriarch while bathed in blood light, he briefly glimpsed the fox’s blood-soaked tail, and an inexplicable unease stirred in his heart.
Yet at the time, he had no leisure to look closely. Assuming it was merely stained with the blood of fallen immortals, he thought nothing further of it and turned, sword in hand, to pursue another enemy straight into the heavens.
That fallen immortal carried an overwhelming aura of bloodlust. After a fierce exchange, seeing that he could not defeat Feng Qingyun, he immediately attempted to self-destruct.
At the critical moment, the dragon-scale pendant at Feng Qingyun’s chest suddenly shone with a faint golden light. A vast demonic Qi surged forth, instantly enveloping the fallen immortal like a perfectly rounded black sphere, imprisoning him within.
“Boom!”
Inside the half-transparent sphere, the self-destructing immortal exploded into a mass of golden blood and flesh, which slowly slid down along the inner wall formed from the condensed demonic Qi.
Feng Qingyun gripped his sword, staring uncertainly at the scene. His mind went blank, and only after a long moment did he finally realize where that earlier sense of unease upon passing the fox Patriarch had come from.
Beneath the bloodstains, the fox Patriarch was missing one tail.
It must have been blown off by an immortal’s self-destruction. At that thought, Feng Qingyun trembled. Remembering the danger he himself had just faced, he drew a deep breath, suppressing the numb tremor in his heart. Then he slowly came back to himself, clutching the dragon scale and lowering his head to press a kiss against it.
But the instant his lips touched the scale, Feng Qingyun froze.
No matter how hard he racked his brain, he could not remember when he had obtained that dragon scale.
He stood there stunned. After a long while, an overwhelming grief nearly drowned his reason, and Feng Qingyun did not dare imagine, if one day he were to lose every memory of Long Yin, how utterly despairing he would be.
Yet cruel reality did not even allow him time to grieve.
He had to kill every fallen immortal before the Heavenly Path opened.
He could not stop.
When the second night fell, he bit his own tongue to force himself to remain clear-headed, the taste of blood spreading through his throat as he sped through the forest.
Faster… faster! He was about to catch up!
The life-taking demon pursuing from behind terrified the fallen immortal to the point his eyes nearly split in half. He kept glancing back in panic, paying no heed to what lay ahead.
And thus, he overlooked the danger before him.
“!”
Without warning, something suddenly appeared beneath his feet, coiling around his ankle and yanking him violently to the ground. The immortal bit through his own tongue, crashing down in a mouthful of blood.
In that single instant of delay, before he could even struggle to rise, the figure behind him arrived in a rush of blood-red light. Like a god of slaughter, Feng Qingyun’s sword fell and, with a dull thud, a head struck the ground.
The world returned to silence, leaving only the wind among the trees and Feng Qingyun’s faint, unsteady breathing. Then the pure moonlight seemed to descend to wash away all the bloodshed, filling the forest and falling through the canopy onto Feng Qingyun’s body.
After two days of uninterrupted killing, his spiritual power was nearly exhausted, but only after slaying the final fallen immortal did he belatedly realize how depleted he was. He stood there catching his breath for a long while before finally noticing that someone else stood at the edge of the forest.
Feng Qingyun lightly turned with his sword in hand, only to see Yue Jinshu standing in the moonlight, bathed in blood.
She had clearly undergone a fierce battle as well. At the moment, the true appearance of the Rakshasa demon was fully revealed, her eerie, bewitching beauty like that of a demoness descending from hell. Yet her expression was sorrowful, almost like a divine maiden grieving for the world itself.
Seeing Feng Qingyun look over, her lips trembled slightly, as if she scarcely dared acknowledge the person before her. After hesitating for a moment, she finally spoke:
“…Your Highness.”
“So it’s Miss Yue,” Feng Qingyun sheathed his sword and nodded. “What happened just now… Many thanks to you.”
However, the more lightly he spoke, the more her heart ached for him. After lingering in hesitation, she said softly: “You mustn’t be too distressed… If His Majesty knew from above, he would surely be heartbroken.”
Feng Qingyun paused at those words, then he gave a gentle smile.
And yet, that smile carried not the slightest hint of joy. Instead, it held a shattered sense of a soul already withering at the end of all hope, making Yue Jinshu’s heart tremble.
At the moment, Feng Qingyun seemed like someone who ought to have shattered into pieces long ago, yet had been forcibly held together by a frenzied hatred. His complexion was so pale it was nearly translucent, and his entire body radiated a breathtaking, fragile beauty.
“…I am not sorrowful.” Dried blood still stained his cheek as he lowered his eyes with that same smile. “The fallen immortals of this world have now been completely eradicated. Once everyone has rested, we may open the Heavenly Path to receive the foreign enemy. During this time, the affairs of the Demon Palace… I shall entrust it to Miss Yue.”
“This one will certainly not fail your trust,” Yue Jinshu immediately replied. After speaking, she seemed to remember something and hurriedly took out the merfolk egg from her storage ring, holding it carefully in both hands.
“His little Highness is still with me. He hasn’t eaten for two days… but he has been very well-behaved and hasn’t made any fuss.”
Feng Qingyun froze upon seeing it, and the tightly sealed heart within his chest finally cracked open just a little.
“…Thank you, Miss Yue.” He wiped his hands, stepped forward, and carefully received the egg from her, saying, “I’m sorry… Beichen. Daddy forgot about you.”
At last, he was willing to call the tiny merfolk egg by the name that person had given it.
Unfortunately, that person was no longer here.
Even Yue Jinshu could hear the countless heart-wrenching emotions hidden in his tone. Her throat moved slightly, as if she wanted to offer more comfort, but looking at that face beneath the moonlight, beautiful enough to break one’s heart, she found herself unable to say anything at all.
In the end, she said nothing, only watching as he carried his sword, held the egg in his arms, and silently turned to walk deeper into the forest.
Moonlight blanketed the woods.
As Feng Qingyun walked, he felt an inexplicable familiarity with this place. Yet for a long while, he could not remember where that familiarity came from. He simply walked through the forest for a very long time, so long that by the time the egg in his arms, hungry for two days, had nearly finished eating, he suddenly remembered.
Once, long ago, he had also run endlessly through this very forest, only to catch up with someone.
In the end, he had caught up.
But now, there was no longer anyone waiting for him in these woods.
The emotions he had frozen deep within his heart suddenly burst through the crack like a breached dam, and Feng Qingyun could no longer restrain himself. His eyes filled with mist as he held the egg, wandering aimlessly through the mountains while tears streamed down his face.
Crystal-clear tears fell onto the eggshell. The little egg was startled, forgetting all about eating as it hurriedly lifted itself to “look” at Feng Qingyun.
He walked for who knew how long. When Feng Qingyun finally lifted his gaze again, he realized he had unknowingly reached the edge of a lake. He froze, then lowered his head to see the reflection on the water’s surface, his own disheveled face, crying until tears and blood mingled together.
…So ugly.
It had only been two days. How had he become so haggard already?
There might still be decades… Perhaps even centuries ahead.
How was he supposed to endure them?!
But then Feng Qingyun suddenly realized. By that time, he would remember nothing at all. Naturally, he would no longer feel sorrow.
The moment that thought arose, an indescribable grief surged over him like a tidal wave. Feng Qingyun immediately averted his gaze in avoidance, set the egg gently aside, and began removing his clothing piece by piece. Fresh wounds from two days of battle still marked his shoulders, streaked with traces of golden immortal blood that had seeped through the fabric to his skin.
Against his snow-white flesh, that immortal blood lent him a beauty so startling it stole the breath.
Like a peerless beauty whose soul had been drawn away, Feng Qingyun, pale-faced, picked up the merfolk egg from beside his feet and slowly stepped into the lake.
The water was cold to the bone.
He leaned against a massive rock at the center of the lake, gently cradling the egg while nourishing it with demonic Qi, silent tears continuing to fall.
Tear after tear slipped down his cheeks into the spring water.
But this time, there was no one left to wipe them away for him.
Feng Qingyun remained immersed in boundless grief for a long time, so long that the stars were hidden behind dark clouds. Only then did he suddenly realize that the faint pattering sound reaching his ears did not seem to be his own sobbing.
Startled, he lifted his eyes.
Somehow, a heavy rain had begun to fall across the entire forest. Yet above the lake where he sat, only moonlight poured down, and there was not a single drop of rain.
Raindrops slid from the leaves, striking the earth and kicking up sprays of dust. It was as though the heavens themselves were weeping, their tears falling as rain before him… yet fearing to drench him, they alone avoided this lake.
And that clear, luminous moonlight felt like the lingering gaze of someone unwilling to look away.
Feng Qingyun stood stunned for a moment before he could no longer hold back. Lowering his head, he hugged the merfolk egg and burst into silent sobs. The egg, halfway through its meal, was utterly alarmed. Forgetting to eat, it cautiously nuzzled toward him.
[Daddy, don’t cry…]
Feng Qingyun choked on his tears. Yet after being nudged by the child, he gently steadied the egg that was trying to comfort him, closed his eyes, and suppressed the sob in his voice, saying, “Daddy is fine… Let Daddy cry for a little while… just a little… It will be over soon.”
Just this once.
After this moment, he would have to set out again.
No one knew how long passed before Feng Qingyun’s tears and the rain falling across the forest stopped almost at the same time.
Within two days, the Linshuang Sword Master, who had held the lives of countless immortals in his hands and shaken nearly the entire world, now pressed his forehead helplessly against a tiny merfolk egg and whispered, “Baby… Daddy asks you one thing, alright?”
The egg immediately straightened proudly.
[Daddy, please say it!]
“Please, you must… must remember your Father…” Feng Qingyun said softly, holding it. “When the day comes that I forget him… You must remind Daddy. Thank you, baby.”
[You’re welcome!] The egg affectionately rubbed against his palm. [Baby will remember!]
Feng Qingyun smiled gently at that. Then he lifted the dragon scale at his neck, closed his eyes, and lowered his head to kiss it softly.
The rain had already stopped, and he could not allow himself to drown in emotion for too long. Harder trials still lie ahead.
After the kiss, Feng Qingyun slowly opened his eyes, stroked the eggshell in his arms, and carefully returned it to his storage ring. Then he scooped up a handful of lake water and splashed it over his face. With reddened eyes, he took out a fresh set of clothes from his storage ring. But just as he was about to put them on, he noticed dark patterns etched into the fabric by demonic Qi, shimmering brilliantly beneath the moonlight.
Feng Qingyun abruptly closed his eyes, grasped the cloth, and dressed himself piece by piece, layer after layer, as though donning armor over his heart.
By the time he finally emerged from the forest, the eastern sky had already begun to pale, and morning light spread across the earth. After a single night, all the golden immortal blood upon the land had dispersed into heaven and earth, leaving only the lingering scent of mortal cultivators’ blood in the air.
But just as Feng Qingyun stepped out of the forest, intending to seek out the remaining Golden Core great powers to discuss what came next, his expression suddenly changed.
The spiritual power he had accumulated within his body for so long was undergoing a sudden qualitative transformation without any warning.
The spiritual energy that had once floated lightly within his Dantian like down feathers suddenly condensed into droplets, on the verge of transforming into immortal Qi. It was clearly the omen of ascension, yet Feng Qingyun’s face changed drastically as he looked up at the sky. It meant that, without his even speaking, the path to the heavens had opened on its own.
And that could only mean one thing.
Long Yin’s consciousness was dissipating. The order of the Heavenly Dao, which could not be altered by any will, was slowly returning to its rightful place.
Yet only two short days had passed since Long Yin returned to his position.
Why was his consciousness fading so quickly?!
Or had it been that from the very moment he returned, he should have been erased outright, and only clung to existence until now through sheer force of will?
Feng Qingyun did not know, nor did he dare dwell on it.
Because in that moment, he realized with sorrow that he could scarcely remember what Long Yin had looked like when he returned to his rightful place.
He was already beginning to forget Long Yin.
The iron laws of heaven and earth would not bend for his will in the slightest, yet he had little time even to mourn, because the path to heaven had now fully opened. The sky seemed to tear open like a wound, and a warm white radiance rippled across the heavens. A sight entirely opposite to the collapse of heaven, bringing with it hope just as different from despair.
Countless cultivators were seated in meditation upon the Xiān Gōng Sect’s martial platform, and someone suddenly shouted first:
“The path to heaven has opened!”
Hearing it, the others all raised their heads, some astonished, others solemn, as they looked toward the sky. But among the countless faces, only the Mistress of the Underworld showed outright joy. She almost immediately adjusted her Qi to its peak and prepared at once to ascend first.
As for what would become of this world after her ascension, such matters would have nothing to do with her.
But after she rose abruptly into the air, the heavenly tribulation that should have descended did not come. And the spiritual energy in her Dantian, which should have transformed into immortal Qi once condensed into droplets, now hung suspended in an unresolved state.
The Mistress of the Underworld stiffened, and her face darkened as she looked toward the heavens, quickly realizing the problem.
Something was blocking her path.
The next instant, as if to confirm her suspicion, several streaks of shimmering colored light shot down along the Heavenly Path amid the startled cries of the crowd, descending like meteors in broad daylight.
Most cultivators were not Feng Qingyun, nor did they possess his strength beyond common sense. After two days of brutal fighting, seeing so many streaks of light descend at once made their hearts leap into their throats.
But when Feng Qingyun saw it, only confusion rose in his heart.
The number of immortals descending was somewhat fewer than he had expected… Could it be that something had also gone wrong in the Immortal Realm above?
Before he could finish thinking it through, the leading immortal had already descended into this world, colliding head-on with the Mistress of the Underworld, who was attempting to be the first to step onto the ascension path. By remarkable coincidence, that immortal was a man clad in dragon robes and crowned with a nine-tasseled imperial headdress. Like the Mistress of the Underworld, he too appeared to have once been a human emperor.
Yet the moment he saw her, he paused slightly, and a fleeting trace of jealousy flashed through his eyes. However, the emotion vanished in an instant, quickly replaced by his usual arrogance.
Several more streaks of colored light descended into the world after him, landing behind his figure.
The imperial immortal lifted his gaze and surveyed the surroundings before speaking: “Since the Heavenly Dao of this world has returned to its rightful place, it can barely be said to know its position!”
“As for this demon and the other cultivators…”
With a casual wave of his hand, a jade imperial seal abruptly appeared in the sky before he continued, “They are nothing to fear! Simply exterminate them all!”
At his orders, the other immortals raised no objections. To them, so long as all the surviving cultivators were slain, their heavenly thrones would be secure; there would be no need to worry about later arrivals.
But the Mistress of the Underworld had already been furious at having her ascension interrupted. Seeing these immortals now preparing to strike at her, her rage instantly surged beyond restraint, and her ferocious nature burst forth.
“You insolent brat,” she raged, “how dare you behave so wildly before this Sovereign?!”
The leading immortal let out a cold laugh, as if mocking her overestimation of herself. With a flick of his hand, the jade seal, heavy as a thousand kilograms, came crashing down toward her.
Enraged by his dismissive sneer, the Mistress of the Underworld did not even summon a magical treasure. Raising her hand, she relied solely on the strength of her physical body to forcibly block the strike. The gold and jade ornaments on her wrist slammed against her bronze-like, withered bones, producing a resonant clang like the toll of a great bell.
The immortal’s expression changed abruptly.
In the next instant, the Mistress of the Underworld finally revealed her true form as a corpse Ancestor, and her gaunt face was suddenly covered in terrifying talismans, vicious fangs sprouting from her mouth.
It was said that wherever a corpse Ancestor appeared, a thousand li would be scorched barren.
And now, with a corpse Ancestor of tens of thousands of years’ cultivation manifesting, lakes and rivers within ten thousand li dried up entirely; even the waters of the Yellow Springs evaporated into vapor.
The gathered cultivators were struck with alarm, and even the immortals’ faces showed traces of astonishment. The next second, she opened that grotesque mouth and let out a scream that shook heaven and earth. The soundwave crashed forth like thunder, shattering the jade seal in a single blow.
The leading immortal froze, anger rising in his heart. They had both once been human emperors, yet this mere corpse, only at half-step ascension, could actually contend with him, a true immortal!
Yet just as his immortal artifact shattered and humiliation turned to fury, the other immortals showed no sign of intervening. Instead, they subtly stood by and watched, clearly intending to use him to gauge the strength of this world’s cultivators.
Cursing inwardly, the leading immortal sneered at the Mistress of the Underworld, “A mere firefly dares contend with the sun and moon!”
As he spoke, he suddenly grasped the air. A golden whip appeared in his hand, and with a single lash, dazzling brilliance burst from its tip.
The Mistress of the Underworld’s face changed. She still tried to block the strike with her body, but this golden whip seemed specially made to counter corpse cultivators. Even with her hard flesh, comparable to a sanctified body, the strange whip-force pierced straight through her arm. Half of it snapped off instantly, exposing a bloodless cross-section of withered bone.
Shocked and enraged, the Mistress of the Underworld seized her severed arm and turned to retreat. The immortal smiled in triumph and raised his hand, preparing to deliver a second strike.
Behind them, Feng Qingyun frowned slightly. Seeing that she was no match, he drew his sword, his figure flickering forward to intercept the blow.
The immortal snorted with laughter, joking, “Another one rushing to die…!”
But before he could finish speaking, Feng Qingyun’s expression turned cold. With a backhanded swing, his sword flashed and severed the immortal whip in midair.
Silence fell across heaven and earth.
When the fox Patriarch and Mu Tingwan arrived, that was the sight that greeted them.
Feng Qingyun stood alone upon the clouds, sword in hand, facing several immortals without the slightest change in expression, like a God of Slaughter descended, gazing at them with icy indifference.
Seeing how effortlessly Feng Qingyun destroyed the immortal artifact, so utterly unlike the Mistress of the Underworld’s desperate struggle, the immortals’ expressions changed at once.
And when they sensed the sharp killing intent emanating from him, their faces darkened to the extreme.
A mere flower demon from a minor world. Even cultivating both sword and demonic Qi, how could he possess strength at the level of a true immortal?!
But once they recovered themselves, none dared remain careless.
The immortals exchanged glances, then, casting aside all concern for dignity, turned and simultaneously summoned their immortal artifacts, several of them attacking Feng Qingyun at once with the clear intent to kill him in a single strike.
No one had expected that after only one exchange, the immortals would unleash their full strength together. In that lightning-fast instant, many cultivators could not even react. Feng Qingyun himself knew there was no avoiding it; gritting his teeth, he raised the Linshuang Sword before him.
The fox Patriarch turned pale in alarm, but with only eight tails remaining and separated by thousands of li, he had no way to rush in time to save him. Before the immortal artifacts even reached him, the vast and overwhelming immortal pressure had already descended first, covering the sky and earth.
Feng Qingyun had just endured a brutal battle and now faced true immortals without pause. With his inner Qi all but depleted, before the clash had even begun, a thread of blood was forced from the corner of his lips by the crushing aura alone.
The immortal whose whip he had destroyed sneered, abruptly increasing the flow of immortal power. Several willow-leaf-shaped artifacts shot forward first, slicing apart his sword robe entirely and revealing the equally cut flesh beneath.
Feng Qingyun ignored the stinging pain on his skin, but the next moment, he felt the faint remaining demonic Qi upon his robe suddenly condense into substance, resolutely blocking the remaining willow-leaf blades for him.
And that meant, the very last trace of demonic Qi belonging to Long Yin that he had preserved… had finally vanished.
Coming back to himself, Feng Qingyun was suddenly filled with uncontrollable fury. Even with his inner reserves exhausted, he still forced himself to rely purely on physical strength, raising his hand and hacking out a sword strike.
Sword light surged skyward.
The immortal, still reeling in shock as his third immortal artifact was destroyed, had no time to react before Feng Qingyun’s sword pierced straight through his chest. No one had expected that under such a siege, Feng Qingyun would still have the strength to strike back, let alone kill with a single blow.
The remaining immortals were both shocked and enraged. Immediately, they poured in even more immortal power, as numerous artifacts hurtled toward him. That furious strike of Feng Qingyun’s had drained the last of his spiritual energy like a final flash before extinguishing.
As countless immortal artifacts rushed toward him, he stood rooted in place, barely able to move.
The Mistress of the Underworld gritted her teeth, preparing to rush forward and block the attack for him, but at that critical, hair-trigger moment, a voice exploded beside everyone’s ears like thunder:
“Such crawling, scheming vermin, how dare you touch him?!”
The instant those words fell, everyone in heaven and earth trembled.
The immortals, being outsiders, took a moment to process the meaning. Their faces changed drastically as they tried to withdraw, but it was already too late.
Countless bolts of heavenly lightning suddenly descended from above. Those at the forefront had no time to shield themselves with artifacts and were instantly blasted into charred remains.
But the lightning did not distinguish friend from foe. The Mistress of the Underworld, startled, hurriedly dodged, and the severed arm she had failed to grip tightly was struck by lightning and reduced to true dry bone.
Thunder roared like war drums across the heavens. Silver serpents of lightning flashed across the sky, and in the blink of an eye, more than thirty percent of the newly descended immortals were annihilated beneath the heavenly thunder.
The surviving immortals clutched their artifacts and turned in stunned disbelief, only to see that within the hellish storm of thunder and lightning, Feng Qingyun alone stood unharmed, sword in hand.
Lightning brushed past his shoulder yet refused to injure him in the slightest. The rumbling thunder at his ears sounded more like someone whispering softly.
At last, the immortals realized in extreme shock…
This sword cultivator was the very person said to be favored by the Heavenly Dao of this world.
Countless gazes, shocked or fearful, fell upon him. Yet Feng Qingyun only stood there blankly, as immense grief suddenly welled in his heart. Had he not been pushed to the brink, he might have wept then and there.
He had not recognized that person’s voice at the very first moment.
He had already completely forgotten what that voice sounded like. Even in his emotions, he could clearly feel a subtle sense of detachment, as though viewing flowers through mist, slowly taking hold. He closed his eyes, trying to swallow the bitter pain and not dwell on those impossible pains.
Yet one question still surfaced uncontrollably in his mind.
The price Long Yin paid to forcibly close the Heavenly Path was losing control of it in less than a few days.
Then what price… had he paid now, for intervening so forcefully on his behalf?
T.N: This novel is now completed on my Patreon, at chapter 88! There are still 12 extras that I will translate in the following weeks, but for now, let us celebrate 😀
Leave a Reply